Heaped Laurels
by Random Guise
Summary: At the conclusion of the 1975 movie "Rollerball", Jonathan E triumphed in the most brutal game of rollerball ever played. The Executives failed in their attempt to take him out, and now he's become almost an idol. What can be done? I don't own these characters and skating only covers me in bruises.


**A/N: Takes place after the 1975 movie "Rollerball".**

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Heaped Laurels

"Fellow executives, our problem has become even worse."

Simply spoken neither hurriedly nor with harsh tone, the only thing that betrayed Mr. Bartholomew's lack of calm was his body language. He spoke as he leaned forward in his chair; the man simply never leaned forward. He'd probably die sitting straight up when the time came. Of all the grave executives in the Energy group, he was the gravest. It wasn't a requirement, but either only somber people attained the position or the position turned you into a somber person; in the end it didn't matter.

He continued on in his measured, straight-forward speech before the Executive Directorate. "Jonathan E has become well-known. He has transcended the level of 'one of the people' to become a public figure. This is in spite of our attempts to have him retire, or physically make him unable to play rollerball. In fact our recent attempt to force him out of the game has only elevated his status among the population so that as distasteful as it may be, he has almost become an idolized figure. This is something that even executives never achieve, for we strive for the perfect balance for humanity where there is no standing out from your fellow man or woman."

"Except between the people and executives" one of the heads on the monitors said. His color light identified him as the executive for Food.

"Naturally; we could no more expect someone not of the executive class to become part of the boardroom and make decisions than to ask the same of a horse or a tree. We are born, bred and groomed to make decisions that affect the whole world; as long as they behave as a group we can achieve our goals with minimal _un-cer-tain-ty_." Bartholomew emphasized the last word to show their distaste for anything out of their control. "But Jonathan E has become an unknown; furthermore, he might even be a catalyst for uncontrolled change."

"But what can we do?" another of the executives asked; her area was Housing based on her light color. "We need something to get him to retire; I just don't know what."

"What indeed."

...

Jonathan E wandered about his ranch, not doing anything in particular as he had done for the past week. The aches and pains of the most recent championship game were already starting to fade to become just one of the smaller nagging aches and pains that his career playing rollerball had rewarded him with; physical injuries did that.

Some injuries weren't physical in nature, however. He glanced at a picture hanging on the wall of his friend and teammate Moonpie. That was someone he could count on and trust; a friendship that ended when the man was put into a vegetative state from an injury during the Tokyo semifinal game. Many of his teammates were now dead or permanently retired after the last two games. His wife Elle was taken away by an executive before that and his girlfriend was now gone too; all he had left was the ranch. In a world where all people's material needs were met, he wanted for nothing and had almost every reward imaginable heaped on top of that. All he wanted now was...well, he couldn't have Elle back so that was that.

He sat in his plush reclining chair and stared at the photo wall. Past teams, teammates, championships and even rivals hugging, shrugging or mugging for the camera were shown. Most in the older photos were retired and living lives who knew where. "I've been in this game too long" he thought as his eyes moved across the wall to the newer photos and finally the most recent, taken this season. No photos depicted the last two games; Jonathan refused to have any up there as he tried to forget them.

But seeing Blue and the others who had died, and Moonpie who was just as good as dead brought the games back in a flash; he found himself involuntarily twitching as he relived some of the action in his mind. The images flooded faster and faster together until it was all too much and he found himself hunched over vomiting, his body and mind reacting to the sheer grotesqueness of slaughter; for that's what it was, no mincing words.

A ranch assistant appeared, disappeared and returned quickly with a damp towel and cleaning equipment. "Thanks, Roger" Jonathan said as he wiped his face clean.

"I was nearby and heard you. Are you coming down with something?" Roger asked.

Jonathan gave a weak smile. "Maybe so. I was just thinking...ah, I don't know...maybe I'm not thinking straight." He shook his head gently.

"Okay, I can call the doctor if you'd like. Me, that's how I reacted after seeing that last game; it really turned my stomach and I had to quit watching."

"Really?" said Jonathan, with a mix of suspicion and relief.

"Really. Don't get me wrong sir, I really have enjoyed the games in the past. But the violence - I'm not talking the normal jostling and bumping - has just become too much. And those last two games? That wasn't rollerball; that was like the old gladiatorial games."

"Gladatorial?"

"Glad_ia_torial. They had them in an ancient civilization called Rome."

"Before the Corporate Wars?" Jonathan had tried getting some information on the Corporate Wars, but all the books had been compiled and 'edited' by the corporations before being put exclusively into the repository of all knowledge, a supercomputer named "Zero". If Zero gave you any useful information at all, it was after it had been sanitized by the executives. And recently the caretaker of the computer was complaining that Zero was becoming forgetful and losing information, in effect wiping it out forever.

"Before the Corporate Wars, even before the collapse of nations; back when major parts of the world hadn't even heard of each other yet. They were games designed to entertain the people, and it usually involved violence and mayhem. The idea was if the people that ruled kept the people entertained, they'd be less likely to complain about other things that were more important."

"Huh. I don't remember ever hearing about any of that."

"If you relied on today's information, you wouldn't. It comes from older things; books."

Jonathan's eyes went wide. Books? There weren't any left, were there? "Books?" he asked.

"Yes. Some still exist, but not as many as there used to be" Roger lamented. "There was a time when just about every place people lived had books."

"I tried to read some books, but I was told that they didn't exist anymore."

Roger considered something for a moment and then continued. "I have some friends that have friends that are interested in books; it's amazing what you can read in them. History is full of extraordinary people that stood out from the crowd and did amazing things never done before; they showed bravery, courage and true leadership spirit. They did things that _needed_ to be done, not because they were told to do it."

"Like being a team captain."

"A little bit, now that you come to mention it." In actuality Roger had heard Jonathan mention books before, but he had waited and listened for the right time to bring up the subject. To freely espouse such ideas in loose talk might very well be considered odd, counter-social or even conspiratorial.

"I'd like to see a real book sometime. Even a history book. Would I be able to actually read one?"

Roger smiled. "For the great Jonathan E? I can ask; give me some time and I think we can make it happen."

"I'd like that, Roger."

"Let me take these back to the laundry. I'll make some calls later and ask and we'll see what happens. No promises mind you; my friends are understandably selective who they invite in. But these things aren't going to wash themselves so I better get going before they make a worse mess." He took the soiled items and left the room with Jonathan and the photos, depositing the cleaning materials in the washing room for later sanitation.

Afterwards he walked to a seldom used room of the ranch, closed the door and stepped up to a wall-mounted com unit. Punching in a sequence of numbers, he waited for the encoded call to go through and was rewarded with a still picture of a daisy on the screen. "Which flower do you wish information on?" the speaker intoned.

"The subterranean rose, please."

There was a brief chitter of data and the screen blacked out but the connection remained. "What do you have?" a voice spoke.

"The seed has been planted and germination has occurred. The leaves want to see the sun."

"Understood. Give us 24 hours till dawn."

"Affirmative." Roger cut the communication and blanked the redial function to be safe.

...

Jonathan had shifted to a seat by an open window and he stared out into the afternoon sky. What would he find in books about history? Would he even understand all the words? The questions piled on, interrupted only by a chime that indicated he had a call. He reached over to the controls set in a desk and activated the com unit in the room.

"Ah, Jonathan. Are you recovering well from the latest season?" The chief executive for Energy intentionally didn't mention the last game.

"Yes, thank you Mr. Bartholomew."

"I'm pleased. Jonathan, have you reconsidered your opportunity to retire?"

"I actually have, Mr. Bartholomew. I'm giving it a lot more thought...lately. The idea is a lot more attractive than it was before."

"A wise course of action, Jonathan. I have spoken with my colleagues and we believe it is time to offer you one final reward for all that you've accomplished for the RCI Energy corporation."

Not getting killed was an accomplishment, Jonathan thought to himself.

"As you know, we executives trace our lineage back generations; a long history of capable people making good decisions for what is in the best interest of the world. But there has been thought of late that perhaps a fresh perspective might provide valuable insight in the future; the possibility exists that as a group we executives have become too insular in our offices. It has been suggested by the Transportation chief executive that you, Jonathan, might have bestowed upon you the singular honor of being promoted to executive if you retire."

"Gee Mr. Bartholomew, that IS an honor. I don't know what to say."

"Of course you don't; the situation has never arisen before, and the opportunity may never occur again. But if you retire Jonathan, you will make history with your ascension to executive. How does that sound?"

"I have to admit, the offer is overwhelming." Jonathan thought quickly as he sat in front of the monitor. History; real history or executive history? Roger's words came back to him:

_History is full of extraordinary people that stood out from the crowd and did amazing things never done before_

"Do you think I'm capable of being an...an executive?"

"Jonathan, I would not extend the offer to you if I did not." And safely kept as an observer to decision making, Bartholomew thought, not an actual participant.

This was an opportunity, Jonathan thought quickly. He had come to have a deep desire to learn why things were the way they were and how they got that way; was he free or did he merely think he was free? It wasn't going to be easy to give up rollerball, but the game wasn't the same anymore and he really didn't think he had the heart to play it. He really wanted to find out more about the world, and with Roger's books and being an executive he had the best chance of finding out. And maybe, if he left the game, it would return to the former rules and be easier on the other players.

"Mr. Bartholomew, would it be okay if we had a meeting to discuss the details?"

"Jonathan, I would be delighted. I'll arrange transportation and we'll meet tomorrow and afterwards we can have lunch."

"Thanks Mr. Bartholomew."

"Thank you, Jonathan." Thank you for finally disappearing from the public eye, Bartholomew thought. An executive was as nameless as any member of the population, maybe even more so since they traveled in smaller social circles. And they _certainly_ didn't appear on television. He cut the communication channel.

Jonathan immediately starting thinking about what he wanted to read about. It didn't hurt to have a wish list.

The End

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**A/N: I never saw the remake, but I found it interesting that the makers of the original movie tried to invent an ultra-violent sport to make it more shocking, but the cast and crew actually played it on breaks and locals asked to form a league. The underlying theme of knowledge being rewritten and edited by those in charge does provide a nightmarish scenario that is ripe for misuse. **


End file.
